


How The Story Began

by MailunaLong



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Anna Has Fire Powers (Disney), Anna and Elsa are Siblings (Disney), Gen, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MailunaLong/pseuds/MailunaLong
Summary: “I recommend we remove all magic - even memories of magic - to be safe.”A story in which it's not the first time the royal family visits the trolls.
Relationships: Agnarr/Iduna (Disney), Anna & Elsa (Disney)
Kudos: 4





	1. An Unexplained Illness

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is the first fanfiction I've written, and I'm still not entirely sure how to work the website. Sorry if stuff is done incorrectly, if you comment about it I'll try my best to fix it.  
> Also, I know the chapters are kind of short sometimes.  
> Sorry about that too.

“Iduna! Kai said you were -” Agnarr stopped short as he caught sight of his wife, lying on the bed in the clinic, deathly pale. The royal physician looked up, fear in his eyes.  
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. She just fell ill - I can’t locate any apparent problem or remedy other than… the obvious.” He took a deep breath, blinking fast as if holding back tears. “Yet. We will keep searching.” “This isn’t… the usual sickness?” Agnarr asked, thinking of the other times where Iduna had been confined to the bathroom, ill.  
The physician shook his head. “I’m sorry, sire, but this is… different. To help, we would first need to find which particular illness has taken her. We need…”  
“A miracle,” Agnarr finished calmly.  
“I…” The physician looked forlorn, shaking his head. “Your Majesty, I cannot prescribe anything until we understand the problem.”  
“I understand, Poul,” Agnarr said. The physician looked up, as though surprised the king knew his name. “Health is a vital and complex subject. You have done well.” He nodded approvingly and left the room. When he was sure that Poul could no longer hear him, he gave a sob, burying his face in his hands. A miracle. They would never be able to cure Iduna in time.  
Except…  
His head snapped up. There was something, something she had told him about…  
The memory was faded by years, but he could picture her young face, gazing intently at it under a tree.  
A book.  
Agnarr broke into a run, ignoring every rule about kings and stance and examples as he rushed through the halls, the memory burning bright in the back of his mind.  
The moment he reached the library, Agnarr started to sift through the books, frantically searching for the one he needed. Then he saw it - a faded red book, with an intricately decorated spine and runes on the cover. The only thing his wife had brought from the forest.  
He opened it to the page she had told him about - page 394. A picture of a spiny silhouette leaning over a sick knight covered one page; the undecipherable runes covered the other. Agnarr shook the book in frustration, and a slip of paper fell out from between the pages. He seized with excitement; a map!  
“Daddy?”  
Agnarr froze. He pushed the map surreptitiously between the pages of the book, then looked up and saw his three-year-old daughter standing in the doorway.  
“Elsa? What is it, sweetheart?”  
The little girl ran towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head in his stomach.  
“Daddy, is Mummy going to die?”  
Agnarr looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t expected Elsa to worry; he’d assumed she would be far too busy with her toys to notice her mother was ill, let alone predict her fate.  
“Of course not, darling. Mummy’s just a little sick from the baby.”  
Elsa looked up at him. “The baby’s making Mummy sick?”  
Agnarr thought about how to answer this question. He picked her up and sat down on a chair, resting her on his knee.  
“No, it’s just… trying to adjust,” he tried.  
Elsa tilted her head.  
“Because people aren’t meant to be in tummies?” she asked.  
“Well, yes, I suppose,” he said slowly.  
“And because Mummy doesn’t normally have a people in her tummy?”  
Agnarr smiled a little. “Yes.”  
“Then… did I make Mummy sick like that too?”  
The little face was full of fear; Elsa clearly didn’t want to think she’d ever hurt her mother.  
Agnarr bit his lip. “Well, yes, darling... but it’s normal,” he added quickly, as tears brimmed in her eyes. “All babies… and all mummies… get a bit sick. It’s nothing to worry about.”  
Elsa snuggled closer to him. “But Bool was looking sad. Like Mummy’s really, really sick this time.”  
It took Agnarr a moment to realise what she meant. “Poul spoke to you?”  
“No. You left the door open.”  
The king thought for a bit. He would never have thought that a three-year-old child could work out something like that, just from the look on Poul’s face… he was going to have to be careful.  
“Sweetie, Mummy’s going to be just fine.” He remembered the book. “But she needs a special medicine, so I need to take her somewhere to get it.”  
“Can I come?”  
The question leapt to her lips so readily, so without thought, that it was clear what answer she expected. Agnarr sighed inwardly. And that was the answer she would get. Elsa was… troublesome, at best. She didn’t fare well alone without her parents.  
“Yes… but Elsa,” he looked her in the eye, “You have to be very careful. Make sure to do what Da- what Mummy and Daddy say, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
She gave him a hug, and Agnarr returned it, blinking back tears. Elsa was so sweet, so innocent. He would miss that innocence when she grew up, inevitable though it was.  
After a while, he pulled back, smiling at his young daughter, eagerly awaiting travel - just as her mother did.  
“I’ll go get Mummy, okay? You can prepare for the trip. Pack a few clothes.”  
She nodded and zipped off to her room, ready for the adventure.  
Agnarr picked the map back up, studying it, and walked towards the clinic.


	2. The First Encounter With The Trolls

“We’re going to the cliff hole, the cliff hole, the cliff hole, we’re going to the cliff hole, to get some help for Mummy!”  
Elsa was clapping her hands and tapping her thighs as she sang, occasionally getting mixed up, tapping the wrong thigh, and starting over again. Agnarr had only ever heard the first verse and half of the chorus.  
“That’s a strange song, Elsa,” he tried, smiling at her. She nodded absently, her hands still flapping. He glanced back behind them, where Iduna lay on the seat, a blanket shrouding her.  
Ahead, the carriage jolted, and the horses stopped.  
“Now, be very careful, okay?” he said to Elsa, and when she nodded, he gathered the queen in his arms and stepped out of the carriage into an empty rock clearing surrounded by small mossy boulders. At a nod, the coachmen drew away, to return at midnight.  
“Hello?” he called tentatively. “Please! Help! My wife…”  
A rumbling emanated from the ground, and Agnarr stepped closer to Elsa, sheltering her. The boulders shivered, then trembled, then shook, and suddenly they were rolling down the sloping cliff from their ledges towards them. Elsa grabbed Agnarr’s leg and shuffled closer to him as the rocks tumbled to their feet - and popped up into small, round creatures, with bodies of stone and hair of moss, whispering frantically about their visitors.  
“It’s the king!”  
One stepped - no, waddled - forward, swathed in a long robe; Agnarr guessed he was the largest one.  
“Your Majesty. How long has she been this way?” he asked with a small bow, reaching towards Iduna.   
“Uh -”Agnarr hesitated for a moment. How could this - this troll, of all things, help them? And he acted as though he already knew everything - well, almost everything, it seemed - about their predicament, despite never having met or probably laid eyes on them before. He certainly knew Agnarr was king, though, even though Arendelle was at least a mile away.  
But Iduna was dying.  
“A day. And she’s getting worse.”   
The troll beckoned, and Agnarr knelt and held Iduna towards him. He felt her head and a long sigh of breath escaped his mouth.  
“You are lucky. It’s not her heart. The heart is not so easily changed. But the fetus can be persuaded.”  
“Do what you must,” Agnarr said.  
The troll laid his hand to her head again, then spread it into the air, swirling ice crystals forming an image of a little auburn-haired girl flying on a sled, laughing with glee, and an older-looking Elsa poised as if having pushed her. “I recommend magic. Both of them, healed with magic,” he said, nodding to Elsa. He waved his hand over the image and it changed to Elsa shooting something blue and shining at the same girl, who was flying off a snowdrift. His hand kept moving, flicking and changing more pictures. “To be safe.” The troll gathered the crystals into his hand and flattened it onto Iduna’s belly. Her breathing smoothed, and the grey pallor on her skin began to wash away. He beckoned to Elsa, and Agnarr unwillingly let her walk to him. The troll took her hands in his and spread his fingers over them in the same motion. “She will be okay.”  
He turned to the king, and Agnarr gently laid his wife on the ground and walked aside with the troll as Elsa ran to her mother.  
“Listen to me, Agnarr. Their power will only grow.” He spread his hands, and an aurora-like image appeared of the two little girls again, playing together in the snow. Agnarr realised with a sudden jolt that the other girl was his unborn child.  
“There is beauty in it, but also great danger.” The image flashed red, and the shadowy Elsa slipped and cast a bolt of ice at her - sister, he thought. The little girl collapsed on the ground.  
“They must learn to control it. Fear will be their enemy.” Red figures of two taller people rushed in - Agnarr and Iduna, he realised. They lifted the toddler, and the image merged into that of a bed being removed from a room, and a quick succession of lonely, sad, desperate, hidden children, blocked by a door. The scene ended in an adult woman falling, underneath a glittering chandelier and surrounded by soldiers. Agnarr gasped. “No,” he said. “We’ll protect them. They will learn to control it, I’m sure.”  
The troll nodded. “Good luck,” he said. And with that, the trolls curled back into balls and rolled up to their ledges. The leader hesitated, then said, “I will remove all memories of this incident, including my own. I expect that in the future, it will be hard to explain.”  
“Wait,” Agnarr said. “I… I want to remember. And Elsa, too. Just in case anything happens again.”  
The troll nodded. “So be it.”  
Then he curled back and rejoined the rocks.  
“Daddy!” Elsa was holding Iduna’s hand as she moaned and sat up. Agnarr rushed over and helped her stand, the carriage rolling towards them from a few hundred metres away. “Iduna, you’re all right, we’re going home now-”  
“Agnarr!” Her hand squeezed his, knuckles white, breathing heavily.  
“It’s okay, you’re okay…”  
“No, Agnarr, listen to me!”  
He stopped. “What’s wrong?”  
“The- the baby-”  
Agnarr felt his stomach decide now was the right time to find Atlantis.  
“The baby’s-?!”  
“Yes, NOW!”  
The coachman looked pale as he carried her into the carriage; Agnarr himself was a little worried he’d faint before the - girl - was even born.  
“Mummy? What’s wrong?” Elsa asked, running into the carriage.  
“Um-” Agnarr was finding it hard to speak.  
“The - baby’s coming-” Iduna panted. Elsa stopped short. “Really?” she asked, in a small voice.  
“Yes-”  
The little girl’s eyes widened. She rushed to her mother and grabbed her hand.  
“Yes! Go, Mummy!”  
She threw a pointed look at Agnarr, who had been standing in exactly the same spot for the last three minutes. The carriage was moving back to the castle at full speed, and Iduna was evidently in pain. Elsa was perched on the seat beside her, holding her hand and whispering into her ear. He realised that his daughter didn’t actually know the process of, er, reproduction. This would probably be a bit of a shock to her.  
Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a stop in front of the palace, Poul waiting anxiously outside. As they carried Iduna into the clinic, Agnarr thought he heard her say, “Name her Anna… after the spirit.”  
A few hours later, the sound of a baby wailing cut through the palace.


	3. A Dream

“Anna,” The queen whispered to her baby. “That’s a wonderful name, Agnarr.”  
He smiled fondly, looking at her and the child in her arms. Iduna had fallen unconscious a few minutes after she had given birth, clutching the baby to her chest. It had been up to Agnarr to name her and clean everything up - figuratively and literally.  
Elsa, meanwhile, remained stubbornly perched on her mother’s lap, tenderly stroking Anna’s head.  
“I think she’s beautiful,” she said firmly, snuggling into Iduna’s stomach.  
Her mother laughed and wrapped an arm around each child, drawing them closer. She seemed so much lighter, so much more carefree, since Anna’s birth. Agnarr was trying his best to put on a proud-father-safe-healthy-family face, at least until the children were safely in bed.  
Finally, Elsa gave a colossal yawn and her head dropped into Iduna’s lap, the sound of snoring emanating from somewhere beneath her tousled hair. Agnarr smothered a laugh and carefully picked up the little girl, rocking her slowly and carrying her next door into her room, which was soon to be adorned with a crib once the baby was old enough.  
When he got back into their room, Iduna had laid Anna gently on the cot beside them, and was lying stretched on the bed.  
“Iduna, can I… ask you something?”  
She gave a little yawn that bled into a warm sigh of contentment. “It’s too early to have another baby,” she said sleepily. Agnarr was caught between amusement and awkwardness for a moment, then gave up and continued with his question.  
“What do you remember about being pregnant?”  
She smiled and opened her eyes. “Easy. I was growing bigger, and Poul could feel a double pulse on my belly. A while after that, the morning sickness started, and the rest… well, it was the same as Elsa.”  
She stayed silent for a bit, and Agnarr realised that she was finished.  
“Erm… what do you mean, the same as Elsa?”  
“Well, I felt a bit sicker than usual, so I went to the clinic, and then…”  
She frowned for a bit, as though struggling to remember something, then shrugged and said, “Well, and then, Anna was born.”  
Iduna cast a fond smile at the peacefully sleeping baby beside her, wisps of auburn hair fluttering gently in its soft breaths. Agnarr took a deep breath, his fingers steepled around the bridge of his nose. She didn’t remember. He lay down beside her, thinking it over. Had the trolls altered her memory that thoroughly?  
Agnarr frowned. No, they couldn’t do that. That would be beyond their control.  
Right?  
He rolled over and looked at his wife, already sleeping peacefully with her mouth hanging open, one arm curled around her head and the other twisted behind her. She seemed normal, but then, so did his children.  
Away from the excitement of carriages and magic and babies, he remembered what the trolls had said and shown him.  
“You are lucky it is not the heart… the fetus can be persuaded.”  
“I recommend magic. Both of them, healed with magic.”  
“Their power will only grow.”  
And then… Elsa, shooting something at her sister.  
Shooting… ice?  
He reached to sit up, but then sleep rolled onto him and he fell back onto the pillow, dreaming strange dreams about white hair and gloves and talking snowmen.


	4. And The Magic Begins

The next day, he was awoken by a loud squeal from next door.  
“Elsa!”  
Iduna was already awake, scrambling out of bed, and he followed her, bursting into their eldest daughter’s room to see her sitting up in her bed staring at the walls in fear.  
They were covered in ice.  
Despite the shock, Agnarr had to notice that it was strangely beautiful, streaks of white filled with elegant swirls and spirals of snow, emanating from Elsa’s bed - or rather, Elsa.  
Iduna gasped and scooped up her daughter.  
“What happened?” She asked in a breathless whisper. Agnarr reached out and took Elsa’s hands in his own, watching as tiny crystals of ice spread gently along his fingers.  
Elsa’s eyes widened, and she gave a little gasp and pulled her hands away, clutching them to her chest.  
Agnarr smiled gently and pulled them out again, tracing the soft young palm.  
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can control it.”  
She slowly opened and closed her hands again, then slipped out of her mother’s arms and touched a finger to the walls. Little trails of ice started to creep up the wallpaper, and Elsa screwed her eyes shut.  
After a few moments, the tendrils shuddered, then slowly receded back into her finger. The young girl opened her eyes again and gasped.  
Then the realisation hit her.  
“Hhh!”  
She rushed from the room and practically flew down the stairs’ banister to the ballroom. By the time her parents arrived in a more regal way, the room was blanketed in snow, little drifts of it piled up in corners and their child giggling as she conjured snowballs from midair.  
Iduna stifled a laugh as the girl flopped into a pile of snow, squealed again, and leapt up, summoning ice beneath her feet and leaping off the pillar into the winter wonderland she’d created below her.  
“The spirits,” she whispered, folding into Agnarr’s chest as they watched Elsa forming little people from snow. “They chose her.”  
He smiled and they leaned into one another, hiding the thoughts in his churning brain.  
If Elsa, their blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pale daughter had ice powers… what would their beautiful auburn-haired baby have?


	5. And The Magic Continues

The next few years worked like a breeze. Elsa’s powers kept her amused for most of the day, stopping only to hear a story from her mother. Anna grew, and grew, and acted like a normal baby - no magic powers in sight. Agnarr and Iduna continued in their king- and queen-ly duties.  
And then, three years later on a walk with Anna in the garden, Iduna screamed.  
She was instantly flocked by several servants, soldiers, Elsa and Agnarr, but neither queen nor child was unharmed. The only damage was the small bush on fire beside her.  
“What- how-” Agnarr began, but his wife interrupted him.  
“Anna,” said Iduna softly, gently rubbing her daughter’s back. “It just came from her fingers.”  
Anna herself was pressed into her mother’s skirts, staring wide-eyed at the bush. Then she realised what had happened and shrieked, pulling away and staring at her softly glowing hands in fear.  
“What did I do?” she whispered, panting as she drew out of reach of her family. Agnarr opened his mouth helplessly, but then Elsa pushed in front of him and enveloped her sister in a hug.  
“It’s okay,” she whispered, sandwiching the three-year-old’s hands between hers. The cool blue glow of her powers shone from between their fingers as Anna’s hands grew less red, fading back to their normal tan-coloured hue.  
“You’re not dangerous. I thought I was, too, when I found out, but you’re not.”  
Their parents watched in awe as Elsa gently led her sister into the palace and towards the closest stone-walled room, clearing anything flammable out of the way before carefully releasing Anna’s hands.  
“Practice,” she said. Anna looked up, drawing back slightly, but Elsa shifted closer. “Trust me. I’ll put out the fire.” She fluttered her fingers, causing four beautiful diamond-shaped crystals of ice to hover above her fingertips. Anna gasped at the detail on them, down to the tiny engravings on their surfaces, then watched as they sizzled and doused the fire on the nearest torch. The child nodded.  
She spread her hands and let them grow red, a warm glow illuminating the space, and concentrated, squeezing her eyes shut.  
A small flame appeared in her palm, glowing orange and flickering with her breath. Elsa smiled, and Anna, filled with confidence at her sister’s expression, let the flame die out, then walked to the other torch in the room.  
She hovered her hand over it, not bothered by the heat, and with a sudden flick of her wrist she sucked the fire into her fingertips.  
They stood in darkness for a second, and then Anna lit another flame and blew it onto the torches.  
“Great!” said Elsa. She hugged her sister warmly. “See? You can control it.”  
Anna smiled, then made another flame - but this one was blue.  
“I want to try something,” she said. Elsa nodded, and Anna pulled a piece of straw from a hay bale Elsa had moved before they started. She touched the tip to the flame.  
Nothing happened. Anna ran the straw straight through it, then pulled her hair into the flame.  
Nothing. No scorch, no burn, not even a small sizzle.  
“I can be safe,” Anna said. Then she stopped.  
Elsa could see the look on her face, and she liked it.  
“Let’s go and play!”


	6. And So The Story Began

“Elsa. Psst.” Anna climbed onto her sister’s bed and flopped on the mattress. “Elsa!”  
When Elsa didn’t move, the little girl straddled her sister and started shaking her shoulder.  
“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”  
“Anna, go back to sleep!” Elsa groaned, pressing her face deeper into the pillow. Anna sighed and flipped onto her back atop her sister, staring at the ceiling.  
“I just can’t. The sky’s awake, so I’m awake, so we have to play!” She flung her arms down as though exhausted.  
“Go play by yourself,” Elsa grunted, shoving her sister off the bed. Anna landed in a sitting position and hunched forward, annoyed.  
Then she gasped. Anna clambered back onto the bed, straddled her sister and peeled open one of the girl’s eyelids with her hand.  
“D’you wanna build a snowman?” She asked.  
Elsa opened her eyes and smirked at her. “You’ll need to get your coat.”  
“No, I won’t,” Anna replied, making a blossom of flame in her hands. “I won’t be cold.”  
She reached down and practically dragged the older girl out of bed.  
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, come- come on!” Anna insisted, running down the stairs while her sister shushed her. They burst into the ballroom, shutting the door behind them and running into the centre.  
“Do the magic, do the magic!” Anna cried between their giggles, and Elsa beckoned her closer.   
Slowly she circled her hands, glowing blue ice circles twirling around them before forming into a snowball.  
“Oh!” Anna gasped.  
“Ready?” Elsa said.  
Her sister nodded with a soft giggle, and the elder princess threw the ball into the air, where it burst like a firework into a thousand snowflakes.  
“This is amazing!” Anna called, dancing under the snow and running in circles around Elsa.  
“Watch this!” her older sister insisted, then stamped her foot on the ground, causing ice to spread across the floor. Anna laughed as she slid across the slick surface, and then they began to play.  
Elsa coated the room in snow, and Anna helped to roll huge balls of it, heaving them on top of each other into a snowman. She made a face as her sister sculpted the crystals to copy it, and stuck a carrot where its nose should be.  
“Hi, I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs!” Elsa said in a silly voice, and Anna giggled.  
“I love you, Olaf!”  
They skated around the ice, Elsa using her magic to propel them across the surface while Anna danced with the snowman. They slid down snowdrifts together, landing in powdery piles of the icy dust, and Anna jumped up, letting her sister magick a mound of snow below her feet.  
“Hang on!” The older girl said.  
“Catch me!” Anna giggled, leaping higher and higher on pillars of ice. “Again!”  
“Wait!” Elsa cried, shooting out magic faster and faster to catch the younger girl. “Slow down- whoop!”  
She gasped as her feet slid on the ice, falling onto her backside, just in time to see her sister take another leap. “Anna!”  
She sent out a bolt of magic, but it missed, hitting Anna in the side of the head. The five-year-old grunted and fell, rolling softly down a snowdrift. Elsa gasped again and scrambled towards her sister, taking Anna’s head in her hands.   
“A-Anna!”  
A streak of white bled through the child’s auburn hair where the ice had hit.  
“Mama, Papa!”  
As she cried, ice spread from her feet, covering the delicate snowflake shapes in a cold white frost, creeping up the walls and breaking the snow piles.  
“You’re okay, Anna. I got you,” she said between sobs.  
Their parents burst through the doors. “Elsa, what have you done?” Agnarr cried. “This is getting out of hand!”  
Elsa remembered the other times, when she’d accidentally frozen the hand of a visiting prince while greeting him, and when she’d turned all their drinks at dinner into ice blocks. How had she let it come this far?  
“It was an accident! I’m sorry, Anna,” she whispered, as their mother took the girl out of her hands.  
“She’s ice cold!”  
“I know where we have to go.” Agnarr took them to the library, ruffling through the books until he found one - a faded red book, with an intricately decorated spine and runes on the cover. He opened it to a page and a folded map fell out.  
Agnarr ushered them onto the family’s horses. “No time for a carriage,” he grunted. “Elsa, make an ice trail - I’m not sure I’ll remember the way back.”  
They rode through the forest, Elsa facing backwards to leave a path of frozen grass. Finally, they reached a rock clearing. The family dismounted and walked to the centre of the cliffs.  
“Please, help! My daughter,” Agnarr cried. The rocks rumbled, then rolled into the clearing. Elsa’s father pulled her and her mother closer, and she had a strange sense of déjà vu - as though she’d been here before.  
Suddenly, the rocks popped up into small, round creatures, with bodies of stone and hair of moss, whispering frantically about their visitors.  
“It’s the king!”  
One stepped - no, waddled - forward, swathed in a long robe; Elsa guessed he was the largest one, and probably the leader.  
“Born with the powers or cursed?” he asked with a small bow, reaching towards Elsa.  
“Uh, born,” their father said. “And they’re getting stronger.” Elsa looked at him curiously. The trolls had given her the powers. Maybe that meant born?  
The troll beckoned for Anna and Iduna knelt, letting him lay his hand on the girl’s head.  
“You are lucky it wasn’t her heart. The heart is not so easily changed. But the head can be persuaded.”  
“Do what you must,” said Agnarr.  
“I recommend we remove all magic - even memories of magic - to be safe.”  
He swept glowing crystals into the air, forming a picture of Elsa and Anna playing in the snow. Then he swiped across it, and the image changed to Anna on a sled and Elsa pushing her, clad in winter clothing. He changed more pictures.  
“But don’t worry. I’ll leave the fun.”  
He swept the crystals into his hand and smoothed it on Anna’s head. She smiled and made a little humming noise in her sleep, but Elsa thought she saw a tiny wisp of blue flame escape from her lips. As though the last of her sister was gone.  
“But she won’t remember I have powers?” she asked.  
“It’s for the best,” said her father, his hand on her shoulder.  
“Listen to me, Elsa. Your power will only grow.” The troll spread his hands, and an aurora-like image appeared of a lady raising her hand and conjuring a shining snowflake in front of an adoring crowd.  
“There is beauty in it, but also great danger.” The image flashed red, and Elsa gasped.  
“You must learn to control it. Fear will be your enemy.” The crowd turned red too, and pounced on the woman, squashing her as she screamed. Elsa gasped and ran to her father. “No,” the man said. “We’ll protect her. She can learn to control it, I’m sure. Until then, we’ll lock the gates. We’ll reduce the staff. We will limit her contact with people and keep her powers hidden from everyone.  
“Including Anna.”  
And so the story began.


End file.
